


Mountains

by ceruleanshark



Series: Modern Russingon [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Family Dynamics, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Secret Relationship, Skiing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 23:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13177248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceruleanshark/pseuds/ceruleanshark
Summary: Fingon and Maedhros on their annual family ski trip.





	Mountains

**Author's Note:**

> Two fics in one day, I'm on a roll! This was written at one in the morning and not beta read so any errors/rushed writing are my fault.

“I can't believe I let you talk me into this.” Maedhros muttered as the ski lift began to move. Fingon gave him a reassuring grin. “Come on, Maitimo. It won't be that bad. You fell last year.” Maedhros just shook his head and adjusted his black scarf. 

Celegorm leaned back in his seat, letting his feet hang out over the open air below them. “You're too uptight, Mae. Some time on the slopes ought to help. C’mon, it's fun!”

Maedhros sighed heavily. “Fingolfin laughed his ass off at me. I don't want to be the laughingstock of the family again, but I suck at skiing.” He closed his eyes. “Ugh.”

The blond laughed. “Just copy me. Or Maglor. We're good at skiing. Plus, Aredhel and I are going to race each other on some of the bigger slopes. You guys are welcome to join us.” Celegorm adjusted his ski goggles as he spoke.

Maedhros looked faintly nauseous. “No thanks. I'll supervise the Ambarussa and Nerwen instead.” Fingon sighed. “Mae, Nerwen is going on some of the more serious slopes. She's gotten good at skiing, since she and Aegnor are so competitive about everything.” 

The redhead groaned and massaged his temples. “Great. She's literally eight years old.” Celegorm laughed and lightly slapped his shoulder. “Mae, just get out there and do it!” 

He folded his arms and glared at his younger brother. “Easy for you to say. You're great at this stuff. Orome and you were skiing before it became a family tradition.” 

Celegorm lazily checked the straps on his skis. “Doesn't mean you can't do it as well. Live a little. Also, quick question for Fin.” Fingon peered around Maedhros to meet Celegorm's eyes. “Yeah?”

“What's up with your hair? You've had it in a ponytail all day.” Celegorm pointed at the bow holding Fingon’s hair back. The dark-haired teen flushed crimson and looked out over the mountaintops. “It's nothing. I just woke up early and wasn't thinking straight.”

Celegorm smirked. “You're blushing, Findekano.” Fingon glared at him, folding his arms. “Well, of course! I forgot to wear my braids and I have my hair like this instead. I'll fix it when we get off the slopes.” There was a sense of ‘this conversation is over’ finality in his tone, which Celegorm seemed to pick up on.

“No need to bite my head off. We're almost to the top, look!” Celegorm pointed excitedly with one gloved hand. Maedhros' stomach churned with anxiety. The slopes all looked very steep and challenging. He could make out several figures on the sides of the mountain, heading down rapidly.

The cold air stung his exposed face, driving the redhead to pull his scarf up higher and stick his hands in his coat pockets for warmth. Mist hung over the mountains, and the trees on the lower reaches glimmered with frost.

Maedhros was jerked unpleasantly out of his admiration for the land by the ski lift grinding to a halt. He swung awkwardly out of the chairlift, unfolding his long legs and towering above Fingon and Celegorm when he stood.

Feanor, Nerdanel, and Aredhel were already waiting at the top. Aredhel finished braiding her hair and smirked at Celegorm. “Ready to go, Turko?” She pulled her ski poles out of the snow.

“Its Tyelko, not Turko.” He snorted. “I'm ready if you're ready, but you're going down, Aredhel.” She stuck out her tongue. “Bring it on, turkey boy.”

“Could the two of you please stop fighting?” Nerdanel asked calmly, tugging her gray beanie on more snugly. Aredhel sighed. “I've got a reputation to uphold.” Celegorm moved past her smoothly. “Come on, hotshot. Let's see which one of us is the better skier.”

Aredhel joined him. “You're on!” They pushed off from the top and whizzed away, powdery snow flying in their wake. Aredhel's braid flew in the wind as she shrieked with laughter. Maedhros turned back to his parents. “Is there any easier slope?”

Feanor raised his eyebrows. “I hope you're not backing down from a challenge, son. The other slopes are that way--” he nodded towards the left “--but I expect you to rise to the challenge.” Nerdanel sighed. “Feanor, don't be so hard on him. Skiing isn't his strong suit.”

Maedhros shook his head. “It can be if I try hard enough.” His eyes were narrowed into slits. Fingon looked worried. “Mae, don't push yourself too hard.” He warned. Nerdanel laid a hand on his forearm. “Your father didn't mean it.” She gave Feanor a pointed look.

The eldest Feanorian scowled at his father, ignoring Fingon and Nerdanel. “If I wind up in the hospital, you're paying for it.” He turned to the edge of the slope and pushed off.

“Maitimo!” Fingon scrambled to retrieve his ski poles. Nerdanel shook her head and briefly rubbed her temples. “Feanor, don't push him like that.” Feanor looked apologetic. “I'm sorry, my love.”

Finrod, Fingolfin, and Nerwen clambered off the chairlift. “What's happening? Why did Maedhros just go down that slope? That's way outside his range.” Fingolfin gave Feanor an accusatory look. 

Feanor’s eyes widened. “Oh god, I forgot where we are, he shouldn't have tried to--” Nerdanel glared at him. “You forgot?! Feanor, that's our son on that slope!”

Finrod shifted uncomfortably in the snow. He turned to Fingon and Nerwen. “Want to head for one of the easier slopes?” Nerwen nodded, but Fingon shook his head. “I'm going after Maitimo. You guys wait for Aegnor and Caranthir, they'll go with you.” 

“Okay!” Nerwen chirped. She was unusually tall for her age, already barely a head shorter than her fourteen year old brother.

Fingon's mouth felt dry as he peered over the edge of the slope, watching Maedhros flailing and cursing as he skidded downwards. It really had been awhile since he'd last skied, and this slope was one of the more challenging ones.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, Fingon took a deep breath of bitingly cold air and sent himself over the edge of the slope.

The first rush of wind ruffled his hair and made him gasp slightly at the icy blast. He was able to keep his balance fairly easy as he caught up to his flailing cousin. Turning his feet sideways and moving diagonally downwards, he managed to bring himself to a skidding halt beside Mae.

“Want some help?” He inquired. The question was innocent enough, but Maedhros shot him a withering glare. “I knew this would happen.” He grumbled, slipping several feet down the slope as he attempted to maintain his balance.

Fingon gave him a sympathetic smile. “Bend your knees up to your chest and boost up using the poles. No, don't writhe, you'll only throw yourself off more.” Maedhros struggled to right himself, but managed to push himself to his feet.

“What now?” He blinked at his half-cousin. Fingon adjusted his scarf. “Hold your hands further from your waist--don’t straighten your feet out!” Fingon's shocked cry came too late. Maedhros lost his grip on one pole and began a rapid slide down the slope, snow flying.

“Maitimo!” Fingon yelled, watching the redhead roll awkwardly to one side, veering dangerously close to the treeline. He pushed off and headed down the slope. Noting that Maedhros had dropped his other pole, he aimed for the treeline.

“Mae, try to dig in with your hands!” Fingon didn't know if Maedhros could hear him over the wind roaring over the slope.Further down the mountain, Maedhros skidded between two fir trees and disappeared.

Fingon couldn't let Maedhros be hurt. He narrowed his eyes in concentration and managed to move into the stand of evergreens. Maneuvering himself through several risky turns, he jerked himself to a halt beside his half-cousin. Maedhros was curled in a lump at the base of a tree, massive drag marks in the snow marking his trail down the mountain. He’d lost both skis in the fall.

Fingon fumbled with his skis, tossed them to the side, and scrambled over to Maedhros. He groaned and flopped onto his back, fiery hair spreading across the snow. 

“Maedhros! Are you okay?” Fingon hurriedly gripped Maedhros’ shoulder with one hand and cupped his cheek with the other. Snow was crusted over his half-cousin’s clothes and face, glittering faintly in the dim light. Fingon faintly realized how overcast it was, but paid it no mind.

“I'll live. I turned and fell before I hit anything. Hurts like hell though.” Maedhros began to sit up, but Fingon gently held him still. “Shh, Mae, don't move. If you have a broken bone, moving will make it worse.”

Maedhros snorted. “Fuck that. I'm going to kill Feanor when I get my hands on him. Celegorm will never let me live this down.”

Fingon’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You're hurt. And this was your own choice. Sure, he goaded you, but he didn't make you do it.” He gently prodded at Maedhros’ left ankle with his fingers, feeling over the leather of his boot.

“He shouldn't have said I was cowardly!” Fingon switched to Maedhros’ right leg. “Well, you shouldn't be so impulsive.”

Maedhros sighed. “Look, it's just my personality. And what the hell are you doing, anyway?” Maedhros glared at Fingon and tried to move his leg away. Fingon instinctively grabbed on, and Maedhros yelped in pain.

“Oh shit.” Fingon muttered, feeling the slight swelling beneath the leather. Maedhros groaned in pain when Fingon pressed a bit too hard. “Mae, can you take your boot off so I can get a look at it?” 

Maedhros shook his head rapidly. “No, it feels really tight on my leg.” Fingon nodded. “Yeah, I don't want to force it. Is there any way you can walk?”

Maedhros gently pressed his foot against the snow, then yelped again when too much weight hit his foot. “No, no goddamn way!” Fingon stood. “I'll go see if anyone can help!” He jogged towards the treeline, floundering a bit in the snow. More fat white flakes had begun to fall, rapidly spiraling down from the dark gray of the sky.

Fingon pushed past a snow-laden fir and gaze out over the slopes. They were barren. Down at the base of the mountain he could vaguely see large groups of people moving towards the lodge.

Fingon’s heart skipped a beat as the realization sunk in. The combination of the heavy snow and empty slopes probably meant a blizzard was on the way. They were getting people into the lodge, not off the mountain, since the roads might be blocked.

Fingon headed back to Maedhros as fast as he could, heart pounding. His half-cousin met his gaze as he burst into the small clearing. “Mae, they're getting everyone into the lodge. There's probably going to be a blizzard.” The wind chilled Fingon even through his heavy clothes, and he wrapped his arms around himself for warmth.

Maedhros groaned. “Great. We aren't equipped for a blizzard, Fin. We have to get out of here!” He snarled. Fingon narrowed his eyes. “Don't snap at me! If you'd been less hot headed, we wouldn't be here in the first place!”

Maedhros raised an eyebrow. “I wasn't trying to start anything! My dad pressured me into this!” Fingon rested his hands on his hips. “Well, maybe you shouldn't let him push you around!” Maedhros’ eyes widened. “I'm trying to be a good son! I have to set an example for my brothers.” 

“Would you want your brothers to go down a ski slope they weren't prepared for and injure their ankles?” Fingon snapped, raising his voice over the wind. Maedhros opened his mouth, then slowly closed it again. “Whatever. Let's get out of here, Fin.”

He nodded and stepped forward, tugging Maedhros’ fur trimmed hood up over his head. He paused to pull up his own hood, then helped Maedhros up, handing him his ski poles. “Use those as crutches. I'll try to find the ski pole you dropped so I can stabilize myself too.”

Maedhros swayed but managed to stand. They staggered out of the trees as the snow fell and the wind howled. It had gotten dark quickly. Fingon scanned the slopes, but there was no sign of Maedhros’ aluminum ski pole. He sighed deeply and sank to the ground. 

“What are you doing?” Maedhros had to raise his voice so the wind didn't drown it out. Fingon steadied himself in the snow. “Being close to the ground will make it easier to balance.” He kept moving downwards, digging his numb fingers into the snow in an effort to keep traction.

Maedhros groaned in pain. “Good idea.” He slowly lowered himself and kept moving forward, bracing himself on the ski poles.

The way down the mountain was slow. Fingon could feel his hands and feet getting numb despite his winter gear. Maedhros’ ankle was a hellish combination of frozen and aching. The boot was keeping the swelling down, but that only put more pressure on his leg.

“Fin, are we close yet?” Maedhros’ teeth chattered, and his red hair flew in the wind. Fingon squinted through the increasingly blinding snow. He could make out the lights of the lodge through the white curtain of the blizzard.

“Yeah, I think we're about there. Come on, Mae!” Fingon tried to speed up, but he lost traction. The world seemed to fall out from under him, and then he was tumbling through the snow. He lost all sense of direction. Maedhros’ cry of shock was nearly lost to the wind.

The redhead kept scrambling awkwardly down the slope. His ankle throbbed and his face felt numb from the cold. The biting wind seemed to cut through him despite his layers of clothing.

Fingon grunted as he hit the ground at the base of the slope hard. His head spun. Apparently they really hadn't been far from the bottom. He sat up slowly, ignoring the ache from his fall.

“Maedhros! I'm here! Come towards my voice!” He shouted, staggering to his feet. The response was faint. “Stay put, Fingon, I'm on my way!” 

Fingon shivered violently as he waited for Maedhros. Doubts chased each other around his mind. What if Maedhros fell, or got lost? What if he'd wandered in the wrong direction? Fingon's heart pounded as the minutes ticked by.

Then a figure limped out of the storm, half walking and half dragging himself along. Fingon could have sobbed with relief. “Mae! Here!” He reached out and grasped his boyfriend’s upper arm, stumbling in the snow.

Together they make their way past the lampposts and up the stairs, Maedhros leaning on the railing the whole way. His right foot dragged uselessly over the steps, causing him to hiss in pain.

“Here, lean on me.” Fingon allowed Maedhros to cling to his shoulder. The redhead did so gratefully, letting Fingon haul him up the last few steps and across the porch.

“We're out here!” Fingon shouted, leaning against the door. “Can anyone hear us?” Maedhros knocked several times, but to no avail. Fingon took a deep breath. “Mae, lean on the wall.” The redhead shot him a puzzled look but obeyed.

Fingon drew back his foot, inhaled, and then kicked the door as hard as he could. He drew his foot back and snapped it forward again. As he prepared for the third kick, the door flew open. Fingon fell forward and collapsed on the threshold.

“Findekano! Is Maedhros here? Where is he?” Feanor was a strange mix of angry and panicked. Maedhros peered around the doorframe. “I'm here, dad.”

Feanor pulled Maedhros into the lodge and swept him into a hug. Maedhros whimpered in pain as his foot caught on Fingon's shoulder. Fingon shifted away and sat up, drawing himself fully indoors. Fingolfin slammed the door.

“Are you boys okay? What happened out there? We thought you'd made it down and gotten inside! Feanor has been chewing out the staff for the past ten minutes or so.” Nerdanel hurried over, looked immensely worried. She let Maedhros lean on her shoulder, easily supporting his weight. She laid one calloused hand on his back. 

“I fell and hurt my leg.” Maedhros spoke through gritted teeth. Fingolfin sucked in a breath. “That looks bad, it's swollen. Let's get you to the infirmary.”

Nerdanel escorted her son through the crowd in the dining room and down a side corridor. Fingolfin laid a hand on his son's shoulder. “You too, Finno.”

Fingon silently let himself be led to the infirmary. People stared and muttered as he wound his way through the crowd, but he couldn't care less. Snow fell from his clothes and boots, melting in little puddles on the wooden floor.

 

Half an hour later, Fingon rested comfortably in front of a roaring fireplace in the staff break room. He was dressed in fresh clothes and wrapped in several blankets to keep out the cold. The door opened, and Maedhros limped into the small room with his parents in tow.

“Mae! Are you alright?” Fingon turned to face them. Maedhros smiled faintly. “I'm fine. It's not broken, just a bad sprain.” He gestured towards his bandaged ankle, still visibly swollen.

“Is it okay if he rests with you? He's been under stress, and being in a quiet place would be nice for him.” Nerdanel spoke softly. Fingon nodded hastily. “Of course he can stay. Come sit with me.”

Feanor gave Fingon a rare smile. “Thank you for helping him, Fingon. I'm glad you were there.” Fingon returned his smile. “It was no problem. He is my cousin, after all.”

Feanor nodded stiffly, looking uncomfortable. “Nerdanel and I will be off now.” He strode out of the room. Nerdanel shot the pair a warm grin. “If you need anything, let us know.” Then she was gone and the door swung shut.

Maedhros sighed deeply, leaning on the couch. “Fingon, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have acted like that, I was upset and--” Fingon shook his head. “Apology accepted. Come sit down, you should relax.”

Lips pressed tightly together, Maedhros gingerly sat on the floor and allowed Fingon to wrap him in blankets. He fidgeted uncomfortably. “I feel terrible. I shouldn't have been like that, I could have gotten us both killed.” He closed his eyes.

Fingon interlocked their hands. “I forgive you. I'd be angry if I was embarrassed and in pain.” He leaned forward to kiss Maedhros’ nose, making the redhead visibly relax.

“You're too good to me, Finno.” Maedhros ran one hand through Fingon's hair, which hung loose and soft around his shoulders. Fingon shot him an indulgent grin. “I love you, Mae. No point in holding grudges against you for lashing out once.” 

Maedhros pulled Fingon close, wrapping the blankets around them. Fingon delicately avoided Maedhros’ injured leg as he cuddled up to his boyfriend.

“Thank you.” Maedhros whispered kissing his forehead. “Thank you for everything. I love you so much.” Fingon smiled and gently kissed Maedhros’ chapped lips. “Just don't go diving off any more mountains. I don't know what I'd do without you, Russandol.”

Maedhros cupped Fingon's chin in one hand and kissed him again. “We'll keep each other safe. I'm here for you, always.” He promised, stroking Fingon's soft hair.

“Do you need any more blankets? Your lips are cold.” Fingon said softly. Maedhros shook his head. “You're warm, come here.” He pulled Fingon close to his chest, making his boyfriend laugh lightly.

“I thought I was the cold one, Mae.” Maedhros shook his head. “Yeah, well, it's cold as fuck out there.” Fingon rested his head on Maedhros’ chest, hearing his steady heartbeat. “You're admitting you're cold. That's a first.”

Maedhros snorted. “Oh, hush. Just stay here with me for a while.” Fingon planted a soft kiss on the side of his neck and laid his head in the crook of Mae’s shoulder. “Gladly.”

**Author's Note:**

> This sort of grew a plot? I'm going to make the modern AU into a series. Mairon and Melkor will probably show up at some point soon.


End file.
